


I am your only family

by YasminTheSpiritSinger



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Sleepy Bois Inc.
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Ao3 has a problem with the Youtuber's real names in the tags., Attempted Kidnapping, Attempted Murder, Blood, Bombs, Child Abuse, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Faked Death, Guns, I'm Going to Hell, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kidnapping, Loss of Parent(s), Major Character Injury, Manipulation, Manipulative Relationship, Men Crying, Mental Breakdown, Minor Character Death, Minor Self Harm, Other, Panic Attacks, Past Violence, Physical Abuse, Possessive Behavior, Protective Siblings, Sarcasm, Self Confidence Issues, Sibling Bonding, Social Anxiety, Survivor Guilt, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:08:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27081697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YasminTheSpiritSinger/pseuds/YasminTheSpiritSinger
Summary: Even after a few months of recovering, Tommy still doesn't feel all that great. But he is working on moving forward. Life in California rocks and fucking sucks at the same time and he really misses his old life, but that is a given.  With his friends and his adoptive family, things are slowly looking up.Meanwhile, Techno is trying to adjust to having a younger friend of his being his brother, it isn't easy, but he still doesn't regret it.But then some strange news reports back from England show up as a slew of murders and disappearances. And Techno has been getting random threats while Tommy has been getting cryptic messages from the internet. At first, they ignore them, thinking that the messages are just troll mail. Then, when things start to get personal, both realize that the worst has happened. And now, in a scramble to protect each other, they overlook many things.This might be it for them all.This is a fan-made sequel of I will be your family by Aria_Cinibun. Please go check out that work before you check out this one.
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & Phil Watson, Dave | Technoblade & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Phil Watson, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot, TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 24
Kudos: 284





	I am your only family

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aria_Cinabun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aria_Cinabun/gifts).
  * Inspired by [I will be your family](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25876225) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 



> Remember to check out Aria_Cinibun's work before you check out mine. This will make more sense if you do.
> 
> She gave me permission to do this as long as I credit her and I did. :)

"Shit.. Why can't my hair grow faster!" 

Tommy glared at his haggard reflection. His eye bags had eye bags, his skin was sweaty and sticky from a restless sleep, and even his voice was perched and disgusting. 

But the worst thing about this image in a stainless _crystal clear_ bathroom mirror, was that his hair was an earthy dirt tone, not the sandy waves that he came to love. The brown dye splashed about his naturally blonde hair mocked him. Even running his fingers though it suffocated him, reminding him of the power that a certain _asshole_ held over him. 

He _had_ hoped that the dye would just fuck right off around time to go to school again, but alas, it stuck like glue. 

_Damn it. Why the hell did he have to be so fucking rich?_

The teen didn't know if he could take staring at _dirty dirty_ brown hair anymore. Well, actually, he can handle it on another person's head, but his own? Oh, hell no. He would rather get stuck in a closet and die. 

He would rather die than to see another speck of pine, or oak, or whatever wood shade in _his_ hair. 

He just wants it to be gone. And he wants it to be gone _now._

Even if he had to rip it out, he will be blonde by the end of tonight. 

He will be blonde. 

With a shaky chuckle folding over his figure, he forced himself to run his perspired hands over the locks. Despite the burning agony upon his poor fingers, he continued to spread the digits over the scalp, softly caressing the brunette tips. 

Soon, ever so gently, he grasped the strands connected to his roots and gave them a light tug. Tommy smiled at how _great_ it feels. He was finally doing something about his hair. 

The 16-year-old then yanked _harder_ and pulled until the stands lifted up his scalp. He grimaced at this result. He simply wasn't ready yet; he'd grabbed too much hair.

Sighing, he let go some of his hair. Then, finally, he jerked the roots. Some of the strands were stubborn as they slipped from his oily hands, but nonetheless, some of them came out. This filled him with an odd sort of joy, but he needed _all_ of the hair gone. 

So with a manic grin, he tossed down the hair and seized more. Then, he _ripped_ it out. This garnered a weak 'yip' from him, but he ignored it. This was _way_ too important to stop now. Thus he grabbed even more and plucked the sons of bitches out with a battle cry, dropping the lengths into the sink. 

And so, the gauntlet began. 

"Aghhhhh! Come out, you piece of shit!" He screamed as he ripped out crude section after crude section. This final insulting reminder of his _uncle_ , that _asshole._

The next section came out _easier_ and faster than the last.

But many pieces kept sliding from his grip. Tears brimmed in his eyes with more and more hairs forcibly jerked out from his head. He even suspects that blood is starting to seep out from his head. 

Tommy doesn't care, he wants to be blonde again. He just wants to be able to recognize himself again. Pain and difficulty be damned.

He will see himself in his own reflection again, no matter what. 

More and more hanks of hair land on the bathroom sink during his self-assault. Treats and curses join them in this sacrificial attempt to find blonde hair. 

"FUCK YOU-" A section is yanked out. "-ASSHOLE!" Another section. "YOU DESERVE TO BURN IN HELL-" Another one. "YOU HEAR ME!?!?-" Another-

A stinging pain stopped him at his tracks, causing him to glance down at the yanked out roots. 

All of them were _blonde. The dye was, apparently, fucking off._

The tears held up in his eyes silently spilled out. What cruel irony. His blonde hair was growing back, but he couldn't even see it. He can't even see himself in the mirror but he was always there. As if he was still tucked away under lock and key. 

Shaking in sobs, he dropped the latest hacked out locks into the sink and pressed a hand against the mirror. 

"Mom..Dad.. What the hell is wrong with me?" 

It had been at least a month since he had, what the doctors called, a mental breakdown. He just called it being a pussy. But doctors have to have their specifics, do they? But either way, fucking yanking out his hair like a psycho had demolished that record. 

_This is going to be a shitty day, is it?_

He slowly raised the other hand onto the glass. From the reflection, he could tell that he rubbed his hands raw from constantly attacking his waves. 

Then in the distance, he can hear soft but awkward footsteps, as if they belonged to a bird that was just learning how to fly. 

_Thump thump thump._ They went as they thundered down the hallway towards the bathroom.

(Tommy had hyper-fixated once on the layout of this entire apartment, just to find good hiding spots from two little terrors known as his step-sisters. Sure, they are nice and fun to hang out with, but _goddamn_ did they terrify him during hide and seek. Luckily, they were both over at their dad's house, but that is besides the point. Tommy knows this place like the back of his hand. He found _so_ many ways to get out of the home in under 15 minutes.) 

Tommy could recognize those footsteps anywhere, so he worked on wiping his puffy eyes clean of tears and throwing away hanks of hair. If he was caught doing this, he'd never hear the end of it. Also, the last time that he involved others into his problems, he nearly got them killed. 

The sink was almost clean when he heard this beside him: 

"Care to explain waking me up from a _very_ good sleep?" The tired voice huffed out nonchalantly. 

_Shit. I forgot to close the fucking bathroom door._

"Well?" The voice asked impatiently. 

Tommy moaned, pretending to be as exhausted as he was when he first woke up on his bedroom floor. "I was just singing while brushing my teeth, Blade. No need to judge." _Fuck. That's stupid-_

A sigh. "If you were brushing your teeth, and 'singing' then the singing would be muffled. Besides, you don't even have the water running or a toothbrush. Wanna try again, Tommy?" 

Tommy rolled his eyes. "No, because it is none of your fucking business." 

The man beside him groaned. "It is when I am woken up by my orphan of a brother yelling profanities into the mirror at 3:00 A.M. in the morning before said-brother's first day back to hell- school. Now, care to actually tell me the truth before I drag you back to bed?" 

The teen in question rested his head upon the counter of the sink. "I hate having brown hair….. I can't live another fucking day with it." was mumbled into the wood. 

"Welp. Let me get my gear. Stay put." Ordered the older brother. 

"Wait what-" Was the only thing Tommy could say before he heard those light footsteps stomp away. 

As the distinct walking sounds marked up the hallway, Tommy can hear the owner grumble, "Couldn't this not be at early-as-heck o'clock? Things were better when I only stabbed this gremlin child in a block game. I regret doing more than that. Can I just go back to stabbing him, _please?"_ The younger couldn't help to feel that the grumbler was being sarcastic about at least half of the complaint. 

"But you _can't_. You're stuck with me, Techno." The former blonde tiredly chuckled against the planks closing his eyes. The counter suddenly felt softer than his pillow, thus he drifted into a gentle nap. 

The next time he wakes up the gremlin can hear his brother's, Techno's, footsteps reverberate closer and closer to the bathroom until they have landed right next to him. 

"Lift your head up. I can't work with you hunched over the sink." Techno states monotonously. 

"Mhm… ugh…" Muttered the tired teen as he complied. 

Techno shoved the teen further into the bathroom to get in. Too groggy and mentally exhausted, Tommy again complied and stared at his brother's reflection to distract himself from his ruined visage.

The man now in front of the mirror looked even more exhausted than Tommy, as if he didn't get a wink of sleep. Techno's own natural brunette hair had a terrible case of bed head and his eyes were shot in a need for rest. 

"Thank you. Now, can you please stay still? I would have gotten you a chair but…" The adult trailed off as he gently picked up a lock of brown hair and cut it near the roots.

Tommy stood and watched his adoptive brother slowly cutting away, sometimes fine-toothing it with some strange scissors, the brown dyed hair. More and more hanks landed in the sink as they did earlier, but Tommy felt more relaxed as the brown was starting to be overpowered than the sandy blonde.

Eventually, Techno stepped away from the 'masterpiece', letting Tommy get used to the new style. 

Since his hair had only grown an inch or so across a span of six months thus, the haircut was much shorter than what the sixteen year old was used to. It was also much less fluffy and strangely spiker. 

But Tommy loved it anyways. 

Whenever he ran his hands throughout his hair, he didn't feel that suffocating feeling again. When he continuously stared at himself in the mirror, he didn't want to sink away into nothingness or die a thousand deaths. 

When he took a breath and looked up and down, he felt more like himself again. 

He felt more like himself then when he did in months. 

He was supposed to be Tommy. 

A rambunctious kid who's only mission was to annoy the hell out of everyone. His mental and physical appearance solidified that from his bad posture to his _blue,_ not brown, _blue_ eyes and _sandy blonde_ hair.

Just about seven months ago, someone managed to take most of what he loved about himself away. Including his sandy blonde hair and his blue eyes. 

But now, he got them all back. 

He can finally, _finally_ finish moving on without a thought or a reminder of- Nope, not even a mental address.

Tommy was finally free. And all that wants him to not be _free_ can fuck off. 

"Well? If it stinks, that's your fault, you shouldn't of-" Tommy cut off his online-friend-turned-bro with a hug. 

"Shut up. Just shut the fuck up, big man, and take my bit of affection." Whispered the embracing teen. 

Tommy felt two skinny arms wrap him back gently. "You're welcome, you child." He heard the man say.

"Watch it, you stupid son of a bitch, I am not a child. I am a man." He grumbled within his sibling's hold. 

"Suuure you are." Techno poked with a voice laced with sarcasm. 

They still didn't let go. If one of them wanted or had the energy to make a move to leave, that person would have by now. Therefore, they stayed this way for what felt like hours. Neither one willing to let the other go. 

Then they both pulled away at the same time. 

"That was awkward, now let me sleeeeep…" Techno whined while trudging up the hallway. 

Who knew a 21 year old could whine like a bitch? Tommy did but that isn't the point.

"Good. I was going to fucking 'ed myself an...anyways." Tommy slurred while he crawled into his bedroom. He scarcely noticed that he forgot to turn off the bathroom lights, or clean up his mess, but the teen could do it in the morning before school. He just wanted to sleep already. 

_God that was nuts...but it was worth it._

Without much of a hitch, the teen curled up under his soft comforters and even softer pillows. 

Resting his head upon the mountain of pillows were enough to lull this troubled teenager to close his eyes and float into his dreams. Soon, only gentle snores could be heard throughout the apartment, expressing an emotional melody that has been built upon trust and love. 


End file.
